the girl with fire in her eyes
by Alara16
Summary: [Dark AU] In a dystopian world where the Mafia runs rampant and the Vongola Famiglia rules with an iron fist as not-so-benevolent dictators, Vongola Nono is dead. His only legitimate son, Federico, is to be crowned Decimo. Until the Vongola Rings are stolen, and the Famiglia is torn apart by a succession conflict between Federico, Xanxus, and Sawada Tsunayoshi. Fem!Tsuna,R27,All27
1. Stolen

**Full Summary:**

 **In a dystopian world where the Mafia hides not in the shadows but rules the whole globe uncontested in broad daylight, the death of Timoteo and the near extinction of the Vongola Bloodline threaten the power stability the people have known for centuries. The Vongola Rings have been stolen, and without the Rings there can be no _Capo di tutti capi._ Sensing weakness, the vultures circle nearby, waiting for the right moment to feast upon the weakened prey. As ****if that wasn't enough, an old enemy makes itself known; Xanxus of the Varia has escaped imprisonment and is prepared to wage a bloody war against his half-brother to see who is fit to sit on the throne. As civil unrest grows under Federico's rule, and the streets of Italy run red with the blood of traitors and rebels, rumors about a possible surviving heir, one who might even have more of a claim to the title of Decimo than both of them, reach the ears of the warring brothers. Now it's a race against time to see which one will be able to find and kill him before the little Sky can grow into his Flames. To up his chances, Federico sends the World's Greatest Hitman, Reborn, to infiltrate the distant and mysterious Island of Japan, ruled by the ruthless Hibari Family.**

 **His mission: to find the only child of Sawada Iemitsu, the deceased ex-Advisor of Vongola. A boy, by the name of Sawada Tsunayoshi.**

 **Meanwhile, in Japan, feasts are being prepared as the whole town of Namimori rejoice at the news that Hibari Kyouya-sama is returning to his hometown in order to find a worthy wife to bear him heirs; what no one expected, however, was that the feared 'Demon Prince of Namimori' would set his eyes on Nanashima Tsuna, the girl with no family, no money, and definitely no future.**

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Prolog - Stolen

* * *

Whispers filled the hallways of Vongola HQ, as the guards and other household staff engaged in the millennia-old tradition of gossiping like old housewives.

"Did you hear?" one maid whispered quietly to another, face pale.

Her friend nodded, equally serious. "Yes, it's horrible. Everyone is in an uproar about it.."

"Poor Young Master, he must be feeling so devastated... He was one of the first ones to arrive at the scene, you know. They said there was so much blood the place looked like a slaughter house."

"I pity the maids tasked with cleaning it," a third voice piped in. It was one of the guards, probably enjoying his break time.

The first maid hissed at him "Show some respect! That's Vongola Nono we're talking about!"

The guard shrugged. "I'm just saying. Do you know how hard it is to scrub blood off that carpet?"

The maid looked affronted, but her friend nodded sagely. Clearly, at least one of them could see the truth in his words.

"Anyway, what is going to happen now? Will Master Federico become the new Boss?" the maid's friend asked, looking between the other two.

The guard nodded, fishing a packet of cigarettes from his back pocket, as well as a lighter. "Yeah. Right after the funeral, the boss will go through the Inherence Ceremony and become Vongola Decimo."

"The Young Master is so young," the maid fretted. "And already he must bear all these burdens... Even though his whole family is dead, he still found the strength to carry on for the good of the Famiglia... Truly, what an exceptional man!"

Her friend looked at her dubiously. "The way you talk about him, he seems like the tragic hero of a novel... And what do you mean his whole family is dead? Wasn't there another one? I think I heard some rumors..."

A tense silence befell the trio. The maid's friend looked at her companions, brows furrowed in confusion.

"What?" she asked, impatient.

"... We don't talk about him." The guard finally answered after taking a long drag of his cigarette, surreptitiously looking over his shoulder to check if there was anyone nearby. In a cautious tone, he continued "Xanxus was exiled some ten years ago for trying to overthrown Nono. No one has seen him since."

"Oh. But... since the Boss is dead... does this mean...?"

 _Won't he come back?_

The guard and first maid traded looks and the woman shuddered. "Let's hope not," she said briskly. "If we're lucky, that madman is lying dead in a ditch somewhere."

The guard frowned heavily at her. "Xanxus might have been wrong about trying to do a coup d'état, but he certainly wasn't insane. He's a brilliant man, and before that, one of the favorite candidates for the position of Heir. He was Head of the Varia, for Primo's sake! Do you think a madman could accomplish all of that?"

"Oh please, everyone knows the Varia is filled with nutcases," the first maid said dismissively. "Haven't you heard about Prince the Ripper? Or maybe that creep, Levi? And of course, let's us not forget Lussuria; I heard he likes to keep the bodies of his subordinates as his personal dolls after they die. It's unclear whether he uses them as actual dolls to play dress-up before they start rotting, or for more... unsavory things. Why should it be surprising that a mad dog like Xanxus was sent there?"

"Well, I would rather have that mad dog as my Boss than _Principessa_ Federico," he sneers, smoke billowing from his mouth. "Has your Young Master even participated in a true battle in his whole life? Has he ever gotten shot or gutted or poisoned? Has he ever had to fight for his life? I wouldn't be surprised if he lets his Guardians do all the dirty work. At least Xanxus can be trusted to get his hands dirty when it counts."

"How dare you! Young Master has worked harder than everyone in this mansion put together, he-"

"Alright, alright," her friend interrupted what would, no doubt, be a long and winding speech about the magnificence that was Federico Vongola. "I just asked because I didn't know who Xanxus was."

The quarreling couple stopped glaring at each other to stare at the third in bemusement.

"But didn't you ask about another heir?" the guard questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"I didn't mean Xanxus. I meant Young Master Sawada."

"... Young Master... Sawada...? You mean the Vongola Advisor? He's the leader of CEDEF. he can't become Decimo... Furthermore... I'm pretty sure Iemitsu ain't that young..."

The maid's friend rolled her eyes. "His _son_. I meant his son. His name's Tsunayoshi, I think?"

They looked at her, their minds boggled. "Since when does the Head of CEDEF has a kid?"

"Oh, apparently he hid him away to be raised as a civilian alongside his mother, so the two would be safe and not get caught up in the Famiglia's politics."

The guard stares, the cigarette almost falling out of his mouth. "... A civilian?" he asks, voice strangled.

"Yup."

The first maid's mouth is hanging open, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets. "... As a potential heir?" a choked whisper.

"Yup."

The two of them traded another look before bursting out in laughter.

"As if a _civilian_ could ever become the Boss of any Famiglia, much less Vongola Decimo!" the man roared with mirth, almost swallowing his cig.

The maid covered her mouth to smother her giggles. "Oh my, if that's the competition, Young Master might as well just take the Rings and be done with it."

Before the other woman could give an angry retort, a door slamming open caught their attention. Seconds later, the sound of a stampede of feet approached their place, voices shouting over each other in an effort to be heard. It took a second to decipher what they were actually saying, but when they did, the three exchanged shocked and horrified looks, the implication of this knowledge sinking into their brains and causing a shiver to run down their spines.

"The Rings are missing! Iemitsu Sawada has been murdered!"

"The Advisor's dead!"

"The Vongola Rings have been stolen!"

The world as they knew it had just been turned upside down.

It was the beginning of the end.

* * *

Federico Vongola looked down at the remains of what was once the Head of the CEDEF, Iemitsu Sawada. To be honest, there was barely anything that could be used to identify the man. That was the extension of the mutilation Iemitsu had suffered. His limbs had been twisted into unnatural positions, and deep gashes covered his chest and his face. There was one large hole in the stomach that allowed all of its contents to be spilled on the floor of the destroyed office, half-crushed organs that Federico would have happily preferred to never see outside one's body. He wished someone would open the windows. The body was beginning to stink up the place.

As if she had read his mind, Alessa offered him a handkerchief to cover his nose. He sent a grateful look her way.

His Mist Guardian truly was the best.

"Do we have any suspects?" he asked, nose securely covered.

Alessa spared a disinterested glance at the corpse. "Aside from the obvious one?"

"Aside from Xanxus, yes."

"No."

That was the other thing he liked about Alessa. Apart from her beauty, with the platinum blond hair and ice-blue eyes, he could also always appreciate her sharp mind and bluntness. Which was an interesting quirk of her personality, considering her Mist Flames.

Federico sighed. It seemed his already bad week was about to take a turn for the worse. "You know," he said, crouching next to the body to take a closer look at the wounds. His Intuition nagged at him. There was something _off_ about those wounds. Had he seen them before? "I hope this was Xanxus' work. Do you know how troublesome it would be if it turns out there's _another_ enemy targeting Vongola?"

Behind him, Alessa hummed. "It would certainly derail our plans. We are already behind schedule as it is. You should've already been declared Decimo by now. But with the Rings gone..."

"I guess that's what Iemitsu gets for insisting on a Ring Battle. Honestly, both of us knew there was no way for Xanxus to become Boss. So what was the point?"

"Well, some people say that Iemitsu had a son. Maybe he wanted to see him on the throne."

Federico paused, brown eyes going blank as he thought about it. Almost unconsciously, his hand reached out, searching for something in the inside pockets of the body's ruined suit.

A moment later, he was holding a simple, blood-stained wallet.

Federico spent enough time with Iemitsu to know the name of his wife, though he was unaware they had had a child before Nana died five years ago. "A son, huh?"

Inside the wallet, he could find many old receipts, credit cards, and false IDs. And hidden beneath it all, an old photograph, creased and deeply folded in small quartets, as if the person in possession of it had spent many a night taking and putting it back, running his finger over the face captured in the frame.

It's the picture of a child. A tiny, androgynous child, no older than five, wearing an orange and yellow kimono decorated with patterns that reminded Federico of flames. Big doe-eyes and fluffy brown hair, an adorable and timid smile on his chubby face as he waves at the camera.

On the back of the photo, a message scrawled with all the enthusiasm and finesse of a toddler.

 _Miss you, Tou-chan!_

 _With love,_ _Tsunayoshi_

He looked again at the boy in the frame, his distant young cousin. Years must have passed since the photo was taken. How much older was he now? Had he grown up enough to lose all the baby fat on his cheek? Did he look like a man now, like his big and broad-shouldered father, or did he inherited his mother's build, small and slim?

"... Tsunayoshi, hmm..."

Was he, maybe, old enough to fight?

"Alessa," he called his Mist Guardian over. "Prepare my office. I will need it later for an important meeting."

The blond woman nodded. "At once, boss. Anything I should prepare specifically?"

He thought about it. What did his old man always had in hand when he had his old friend over?

"Some espresso wouldn't be amiss."

As Alessa went off to follow his order, Federico slowly got back to his feet, slipping the picture into the breast pocket of his Armani suit.

He still needed to organize a few things before meeting the World's Greatest Hitman, after all.

"Sorry, baby cousin," he said as he walked away from the corpse laid on the floor. "It's nothing personal."

 _We must all sacrifice for the good of the Family._

* * *

Miles away, in a small apartment in Namimori, Japan, Tsuna startled awake.

Sweat dotted her forehead and dampened the oversized t-shirt she used as pajamas. Her hair, usually uncontrollably messy in the morning after she wakes, is flattened against her face by the perspiration while her heart attempts to escape the confines of her ribcage, beating a mile per second.

She could almost swear there was a voice whispering in the shell of her ear, the words making her body go taut with fear and apprehension.

 _It's begun._

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 **AN: So, what do you think?**

 **Also, for those of you that follow Dark Waters, I kind of lost inspiration on that front. Naruto still has a special place in my heart, but it's taking a backseat right now. The story is not abandoned by any means, but I don't know when exactly I will update it. Life is a mess right now, but we will see. Maybe next week I will manage.**

 **Reviews?**


	2. Interlude I

**AN: Just a little interlude.**

* * *

 **Interlude I**

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Everything changed when, decades ago, the world discovered Flames.

No. That's a lie. Humanity has always known about Flames.

They've known it since the dawn of time when cavemen found the strength to venture out into a new wide world, filled with beasts bigger and stronger than them. When an old, frail grandmother lifted tons of weight with her bare hands in order to save her grandchild's life. When patients diagnosed with terminal illnesses managed to hang on to life against all odds, determined to do that _one. last. thing._

That last desperate regret. That desire that is hovering just out of reach, that wish for which a person will do anything to see it done, _even at the cost of their own life, if need be._

 _I will do it with my Dying Will._

The moment men and women performed extraordinary feats that surpassed human limitation, people knew about Flames. They just didn't have a name for them yet.

Until a young orphan boy in Italy looked at the orange fire flickering around his hands and said _Sky_ _Flames._

It's unclear whether it was Vongola Primo's intent to show the world the Seven Flames of the Sky. Possibly, he meant to keep them a secret, a weapon, and a mystery, to be used and talked about only by those who belonged in the Underworld. If so, then the future Boss of Vongola underestimated the Mafia. He didn't realize the extent of its hunger, its greed. It didn't pass through his head that maybe, just _maybe_ , his peers wouldn't be content with what they had already been given. That, perhaps, they would always grasp for _more_.

 _Why should we hide in the shadows, when we have the power of fire at our fingertips?_

 _Why limit ourselves to the Underworld, when we could rule it all?_

 _Why not show everyone our might? The strength of our_ _will?_

 _We want more. And we **will** take more._

A hundred years later, and this is the result.

Italy stands tall as the world's forefront superpower, even after going through three great wars, wherein she was the indisputable victor, with Russia and America coming as close seconds. The three nations are known for having the greatest percentage of Flame Users among its population, with Italy able to exert extensive influence and project power on a global scale through the combined means of flame-technology, as well as military and economic might. Since their ascension to power, the world has been divided into two classes; those that are Mafia, and those who are not. Those who have power, and those who bow their heads and obey, lest they risk losing more than just their livelihood.

But even though they wield unbroken dominion over numerous states, one stretch of land still rebel and oppose their influence.

Japan.

From 1641 to 1853, a policy called _kaikin_ was enforced by the Tokugawa shogunate, prohibiting foreign contact with most of the outside world. It was lifted in the 1850s to allow Japanese youth to go and learn from other countries across the globe, only to be almost immediately reinforced in 1901, after the rise of the Hibaris to power. More than a century later, and Japan, still with their heavily isolationist policy, maintains limited-scale trade agreements and few diplomatic relations. Throughout the decades, it has reached the point where the land of the rising sun has become the stuff of legends, with barely anything about modern Japan being known at all.

This is the Japan Nanashima Tsuna, born Sawada Tsunayoshi, age 23, grew up in. An isolated country policed by yakuza, governed by the infamous Hibari Family, who maintains the peace and order of their home by any means necessary, even if that includes a tonfa to some herbivore's face.

This is the world Tsuna knows outside Japan's borders; a dog-eat-dog world, where no one will help you if you fall down, and if you're not useful, you're just a waste of space.

It's a whole lot worse, then, to be called _Dame_ in here.


	3. That Girl of Namimori

**AN: This isn't edited, so sorry with there are too many mistakes. I need a beta...**

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Chapter 1 - That Girl of Namimori

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"Tsuna-nee...?"

Her little brother's voice coming from the other side of the room shook her out of her stupor. Tsuna looked at the clock on the wall opposite her and cursed. Hastily rising from the battered orange couch, she called out "I'm awake! Just -ouch!- wait a minute!" Tsuna rubbed her knee where it had bumped on the edge of the living room table as she made her way to the tiny kitchenette in their apartment.

Her back hurt from the long hours spent lying in an uncomfortable position, but by now, it was a familiar ache; it was hardly the first or last time she had spent the night on the couch. "I'm going to make you guys breakfast and then I need to go work!"

Fuuta, already dressed for college and looking as fresh as a daisy, stared at the spectacle that was his big sister. "Tsuna-nee, don't worry about me and Lambo, we can take care of ourselves. Just go take a shower and I promise that by the time you get out I will have a toast ready for you."

Tsuna bit her lip, clearly divided, before she gave a firm nod and sped down the corridor towards the bathroom.

This was usually how their mornings would go; Fuuta, as the early bird of the family, would rise with the sun and start making breakfast while Tsuna yelped and hopped all over the place in a panic, trying to get herself ready for work.

Lambo, meanwhile, would sleep till noon if they allowed it.

Unless, of course, his growling stomach roused him, demanding tribute.

 _He's growing so much these days. He's gonna get taller than me if he keeps eating the way he does_ , Tsuna thought fondly inside the shower, only to stop when the showerhead made an ominous noise over her and spit out freezing water.

"HIIIEEEE!"

Ah, it seemed they were out of hot water again.

* * *

"Bye, bye Tsuna-nee! Have a good day at work!" Fuuta chirped happily at the doorway of their apartment, a yawning, bleary-eyed Lambo at his side, half-heartedly waving goodbye at the fire extinguisher on their floor.

Tsuna sweatdropped at the sight (she didn't look anything like that fire extinguisher, did she?) before shrugging and calling back "I will! And don't forget to take your bento boxes with you when you go! Yours is the blue, and Lambo's the green one! What's left of yesterday's dinner is in the fridge, you just need to heat it up when you get back. And if there's any problem, you know where the emergency money is, and _please for the love of God_ , call me if that happens. Ah, and don't forget your keys, your homework, and, and, oh! Remember to check your backpacks for umbrellas, the weather channel said that today might rain-!"

"Hai, hai. We know what to do. Off you go, Tsuna-nee! You're going to get late if you don't get a move on."

Tsuna looked down at the time showing on the cracked screen of her old cell phone, let out a quiet 'hie!', and took off running down the stairs, well aware by now that waiting for the elevator was an exercise in futility.

From the door leading to their apartment, Nanashima Fuuta shook his head in amusement.

"Tsuna-nee never changes, does she?" he asked out loud.

Still in his near-comatose state, Lambo grunted what might have been an affirmation in some long-lost caveman language.

* * *

 _Late late late late, I'm so late, so late!_

Tsuna practically flew through the streets of Namimori, avoiding collisions left and right and periodically checking her cell phone for the time.

 _09:49 A.M._

 _Eleven minutes!_ her mind cried at her in hysterics. She could still remember her boss's last words to her yesterday.

 _"Nanashima, if you arrive late again tomorrow, even by a single minute, I won't have any choice. You will be fired!"_

Tsuna blanched at the memory. She couldn't afford to lose this job! Not when it was the third one that year! How would she ever be able to pay the house bills, Lambo's school, and Fuuta's college tuition without it?!

The young woman was so lost in thought of the impending doom, she failed to realize she was running straight into moving traffic until a car honked as it sped past her. Too frightened to scream, Tsuna tried to backtrack, return to safe shores, only for her clumsiness to strike again. She tripped over her shoelaces that had come untied during her mad run and, for a second, saw the entirety of her life flash before her eyes.

 _Goodbye, cruel world._

And then there was a hand gripping her elbow, pushing her back until she crashed face-first into a firm chest.

Blinking dazedly, Tsuna turned her head away until her cheek was resting into the white shirt of her savior. _So soft,_ she marveled, unable to resist rubbing her cheek against the smooth material like a cat asking to be petted. This was clearly very good-quality stuff, which meant her savior had to be rich to afford it, which meant he was probably...

Slowly, her eyes wandered towards one of the hands that still held her close. No tattoos that she could see, but then they could be hidden under the long sleeve of the man's dark jacket. The sword strapped to his back certainly led credence to a higher position in life.

And of course, there was also the possibility he could be a Foundation member.

Tsuna stiffened. If he was, then...

"Hey, miss, you alright? That was quite the scare, huh?"

Slowly, she looked up to stare at bright brown eyes, surprised that she could actually put a name to the face.

"You are... Yama... moto...?"

The young man laughed, a cheerful smile lighting up his face. "Haha, you know my name! Yup, I'm Yamamoto Takeshi! But you've gotten me in disadvantage. I don't know you. What's you name, miss?"

She opened her mouth to tell him when she noticed the stares the two of them were attracting, as well as the compromising position they found themselves in. She was practically cradled against Yamamoto's chest, with one of his hand still gripping her elbow, and another resting on her waist, keeping her close. Flustered, she tried to step away, only for the grip to tighten minimally.

She pretended not to notice the narrowing of his eyes, or how they seemed to darken slightly at her attempt to escape. "A-ah! Yamamoto-san! Thank you so much for saving me! I'm so sorry, but I'm super late and can't thank you properly right now, but later, I will definitely make it up to you! Definitely! So, until then, _byegottagoseeyoulater_!" She ducked under his arms, surprised at her own swiftness, and then continued on her way, this time trying to be more aware of her surroundings.

She dared a glance at her cell phone.

 _09:55 A.M._

"HIIIEEEE!"

Behind her, standing stock-still next to the road, Yamamoto Takeshi's gaze followed after her retreating figure, amber eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

 _That girl... she felt... so warm._

He knew her. He had seen her around in town over the years, always in a hurry for a reason or another. Takeshi was fairly certain they had even shared the same classes back in school, some ten years ago...

Wasn't she the girl who had dropped out midway through Junior High School? What was her name again...

"... Dame-Tsuna?"

* * *

"I DID IT! I did it! Oh, my God, I can't believe I did it!"

Tsuna, weak legs shaking like wet noodles and lungs crying for relief, gasped out as she finally fell to the ground in front of the Ramen Shop of her employer, praising all the gods and smiling through joyous tears. She could almost believe she could hear a heavenly choir echoing through the morning air as the sun shone more brightly and flower bloomed.

The time on her cell phone read _10:00 A.M._

Her boss, a bald, heavy-set man nearing his fifties, with flinty eyes and a permanent scowl called Wataru, frowned at her.

"Get up girl, I don't pay you to lay on the ground. We've already got four deliveries to be made. Come on, chop chop. Remember-"

"Time is money," Tsuna finished dutifully as she crawled towards the bike used for home deliveries parked in front of the shop, already loaded and set to go. "I remember Wataru-san."

Her boss huffed and waved her off. "Just get going Nanashima. If you manage to complete all the deliveries today before your shift ends, I might be willing to give you a raise."

Just like that, Tsuna's spirit lifted until it nearly touched the sky.

"An r-raise?! Are you serious, Wataru-san? You're really going to give me a raise?" She went misty-eyed at the mere prospect.

" _If,_ and only _if_ , you do all the deliveries in a timely fashion before your shift ends," the man said firmly. Tsuna had to stop herself from hugging him.

"Don't worry, Wataru-san," the young woman said with unusual confidence. Her boss gaped at her a-hundred-and-eighty degrees attitude change. "I'm going to deliver every last order, or my name isn't Nanashima Tsuna!"

* * *

 _Why, out of everything,_ _did I have to say **that**?!_

"Go away! This isn't for you! Someone! Help! HELP!"

Tsuna pedaled down the street for all she was worth, but her legs were still tired from all the day's exercise and the dogs were quickly gaining on her, their frantic barking making her head hurt.

Oh, how she _hated_ dogs.

She wanted to cry. Why did these things always happened to her? What did she do to deserve this?!

Then Tsuna narrowed her eyes. This was her last delivery. If she completed it before six, she would receive a much-needed raise. She could use the extra money to fix the air conditioner, or the broken window, or the leak in the living room's roof, or the hole in Fuuta's bedroom they had to cover with a piece of cardboard...

There was something waiting for her up ahead. A lonely figure, sitting in the middle of the street, against the backdrop of a setting sun that cast eerie shadows around it. As she got closer, Tsuna's jaw dropped. It couldn't be...

But it was. Oh, it was.

The Chihuahua from Number 7, with its little soulless black eyes and an evil, fanged grin that seemed to say _We meet again old foe._

Primal terror took a hold of her and Tsuna tried to veer off the path, momentarily forgetting the pack still behind her in hot pursuit.

By divine intervention (because it clearly could be nothing else), the young woman grabbed her package, steadied the bike for a minute longer, and just a second before one of the dogs - an unusually big Akita - clamped it's jaw on the back wheel, she jumped off it, rolling with the momentum and not even pausing to look back before she was running again, the precious bundle carefully cradled in her arms like a newborn baby.

The Chihuahua barked, drawing the others attention, and the chase was on again.

Tsuna ran through the deserted street, trying so hard to find a place she could hide in she didn't realize she had entered a dead end until she almost crashed into the brick wall.

Now what?! She couldn't scale the bloody buildings!

A poke at her mind made she turn around to stare the trash cans put against the wall and she shuddered. No. _No._ Her days spent hiding in the trash were long gone, she had more dignity than this now, she would _not-_

The mad barking grew louder, and at the forefront of it, the dreaded, high-pitched sound of a rat-sized beast...

She eyed the trash can again, imagining the way Fuuta's eyes would lit up when she presented him with a new notebook and writing supplies, the bright smile on Lambo's face if she handed him one of those imported grape candies from Italy he seemed to adore.

Fuck dignity.

* * *

It was with sore feet, hurt pride and a terrible smell that Tsuna finally arrived at her final destination.

She knocked on the door, paranoia forcing her to look over her shoulder again while waiting for someone to answer. She had lost the pack a few blocks away, but who knew...

The door opened, and Tsuna, head lowered so she wouldn't have to see the face of the person when confronted with her sorry state, spoke the customary words.

"Delivery from Wataru's Ramen Shop, to Kawahira-san."

She waited for an answer, but when none seemed to be forthcoming, the girl dared to glance up. Kawahira, a plain, white-haired man wearing a simple white and green yukata, was staring at her with a baffled expression.

She felt her cheeks darkening under the layers of sweat and grime. Tsuna could only imagine what must be going on inside the man's mind. She only hoped he wouldn't shut the door on her face, this was her last delivery, if she could just do this one thing right...

A hand appeared on her field of vision, holding out bills of yen. She blinked, flabbergasted.

"Uh- wait, that's not- that's too much! Kawahira-san, it's too much, you don't need-!"

"Take it. This is my tip for you. It seems you went through a great deal of trouble just to bring me my dinner," he smiled at her, eyes crinkling behind his glasses. "Thank you for all your hard work."

Abruptly, Tsuna's throat closed up. Horrified at her own reaction, she tried to blink away the wetness gathering at the corners of her eyes, to no avail.

When was the last time that someone, _anyone,_ apart from her brothers, thanked her for anything she did?

 _"Ara, Tsu-chan, thank you so much for doing the groceries for me this week. What would I do without my darling daughter?"_

 _Okaa-san..._

Tsuna tried to put a lid on her emotions. She must look so pitiful right now, so pathetic, so _dame_...

But Kawahira-san didn't loot at her with pity or disgust, but understanding. As if him too, had to deal with grief-filled memories. "Would you like to come in? You can use my bathroom to clean up, and I can offer some tea..."

Tsuna shook her head, dispersing the painful thoughts. "Thank you so much for the offer, Kawahira-san, but I have to go back. My family's waiting for me."

The man nodded. "Of course. Goodbye then, Tsuna-chan. I hope we see each other again."

It was only when she was halfway back to the Ramen Shop that Tsuna realized.

She never gave him her name.

* * *

Her employer wasn't happy with the bike's battered condition. He wasn't happy _at all._

"B-But the deliveries, I-I completed them all, before sundown, I-" she stammered, backing away from an advancing middle-aged Ramen chef.

"Look at that!" The man yelled, pointing at the bicycle's sorry state. There were bite marks on the wheels, the front basket was destroyed beyond repair and the metal had bent at some places. "That bike was older than _you_! It belonged to my father, and his father before him, and now it belongs in the trash!"

Spit flew from his mouth as he screamed, hitting Tsuna's face. She whimpered.

"I should have known," Wataru lamented, holding his head in his hands. "Everyone warned me not to hire Nanashima Tsuna. 'It's bad luck, Wataru, it won't be good for business', 'Dame-Tsuna will only give you problems'. I should have listened to them!"

"Bu-but the deliveries, I did-" Tsuna tried again, voice growing faint. A bad feeling was mounting inside her stomach but she refused to acknowledge it.

"You think I care about that right now?!" Wataru advanced on her, causing Tsuna to almost trip while backing away.

"But the raise- you said you would give me a raise..."

It was clearly the wrong thing to say, judging by the way his face reddened with fury.

"Raise? _Raise?_ There is no raise! There's only the street for you. You're fired!"

No. Nonononono. She needed this job. She _needed_ it.

"Please. Please, Wataru-san, just give me another chance. I will do better next time, I promise I will!"

"There won't be a next time! I took you in because I felt sorry for you. Dead mother, deadbeat father, two young ones to feed and care for... but no more. You're more trouble than you're worth. Now get out."

"Please..." she whispered.

"OUT!" He slammed the door on her face.

The sky went dark, and it began to rain.

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 **AN: What did you guys think? Also, Reborn will be appearing next chapter, as well as His Carnivoreness, Prince Kyouya.**


	4. New and Old Paths

**AN: This is unedited. It's four a.m in the morning, I'm tired and can't sleep, and will probably regret posting this later but...**

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* * *

Chapter 2 - New and Old Paths

* * *

When Tsuna was little, she used to love dancing in the rain.

She would wear her sunny-yellow raincoat, don her small boots, and run out of the house at the first sight of a drizzle, belatedly remembering to go back and grab the orange umbrella that had been a gift from her Papa.

She would stand still in the middle of the street, mouth partially open and tongue peeking out to catch a falling rain drop. The wetness would make her laugh and dance around the block, spinning her pretty umbrella over her shoulder. When it got too cold or the rain began falling too hard, her mother would coax her back inside the house, where she would be ushered into a warm bath and then receive a cup of hot chocolate.

She would then watch the rain falling outside, waterdrops insistently beating against her room's window, as if beckoning her to join them again. A feeling of peace would wash over her, settling around her body like a comforting blanket she never wanted to slid out of.

How many days did she spend leaning against a window, watching and listening as the world was filled with life-giving water, allowing herself that one moment of tranquility in the mess that was her life? Letting the rain wash away her worries, if only for an hour...

It had saved her sanity, that it had.

Of course, just because she liked the rain, didn't mean she wanted to have to thread back home on foot during a downpour.

Regardless, that was what happened, and by the time Tsuna reached her apartment's door, her hands were shaking and numb with cold as she tried to keep a firm grip on her keys.

Luckily, the door opened before she needed to try.

"What is it..." Lambo stopped abruptly to gape at her, horrified. "Tsuna-nee?! What happened to you?!"

Teeth rattling inside her mouth by the force of her trembling, Tsuna tried to explain herself.

"R-rain, no u-umbrella. I..." she closed her in pain. "T-the job, I..."

Lambo cut her off. "What are doing? Stop talking and get in, Baka-Aneki. We need to get you out of these wet clothes and put you in the shower- _shit,_ I forgot the stupid shower's out of hot water."

"L-language," Tsuna chided the teen.

Lambo threw her a deadpanned look from over his shoulders, even as he dragged her inside, dismissing her concerns about trailing in water and mud all over the floor.

"Lambo? Who was it?" Fuuta came out of the kitchenette, abruptly stopping in his tracks at the sight of her.

Immediately, he began issuing orders,

"Lambo, gather all of our buckets and start heating the water. Put the tea kettle to boil as well. Be careful of the water on the ground when you go pick the towels from the rack. And don't forget the blankets from our room."

Lambo nodded and started to follow the instructions to the letter while Fuuta took a firm hold of her elbow, frowning at the chilliness from her skin, and begun to gently steer her towards the bathroom.

When they were inside, Fuuta helped her take off her clothes when her shaking limb proved too uncooperative. There was no shame or hesitation from either part when her brother removed her drenched shirt and helped her slip out of the ruined jeans and soaked sneakers. The three siblings had often shared baths during their younger years; at first, because they had a big bathtub and toddler Lambo liked to play with his older siblings when forced to take a bath; later, when they were forced to move away from their home to this tiny apartment, it became a way to conserve water and save on the cost of the bills.

Fuuta only left briefly to take the towel and the buckets of hot water from Lambo. After Tsuna entered the shower, he asked if she still needed help, to which she replied with a quiet 'no'. He nodded and left, saying he would only be a call away.

For the longest time, Tsuna stood in the shower stall, mechanically dumping bucket after bucket of water over her head, scrubbing herself raw with the cheap soap, before repeating the process. Rinse and repeat. It was slow. Relaxing. Easy.

It was only when she left the bathroom and was promptly bundled up on the beaten-up couch with two blankets draped over her shoulders and nursing a cup of Sencha tea on her hands, did the full realization of the day's catastrophes hit her.

She had to put the teacup on the table lest she let it fall and break all over the floor.

 _Break like my life will if I don't fix this somehow..._

"Tsuna-nee? What happened?" Lambo prodded gently.

The words stuck in her throat, Tsuna lowered her head, too ashamed to look at her youngster brother.

"Lambo," Fuuta called. "Why don't you go back to our room and work on that math homework you were complaining about earlier? Didn't you say you had a test coming up soon?"

Lambo opened his mouth to protest, green eyes blazing with indignation before he glanced at Tsuna's defeated posture and he swallowed back any words. Biting his mouth hard, he stomped away, saying nothing.

Only when they heard the sound of a door slamming shut, did Fuuta speak.

"Will you tell me what happened now?"

Tsuna looked at him, at the dark brown eyes silently begging her to tell them what was wrong so that they could help, and like the weak, pathetic girl she was, she let the words spill out of her mouth like a dam bursting open.

"I lost the job. I'm sorry, I didn't want to, I'm so sorry. There were dogs and running and the bike got destroyed and I know those are stupid excuses, I _know_ that, and I'm _so sorry_ , otouto. It's all my fault, everything. Wataru-san was right, I'm bad luck, not worth the trouble. Anyone would be better off without me, I'm no good at all-"

"Shut your mouth."

Tsuna shut it so quickly there was an audible 'click'. She stared at her little brother with wide eyes. Never before had she seen Fuuta looking so... so furious.

 _Furious at me?_ she wondered. _He should. I screwed up. Again._

Who would want such a disappointment like her as a big sister? Who would want to even share the same breathing space?

It didn't matter if today was an accident; if it had nothing to do with her at all. Bad things always seemed to happen around Tsuna, like a curse. That was just fact. She tripped over nothing, often dragging someone down with her, resulting sometimes in severe injuries. She was stupid and slow and useless, no redeeming qualities whatsoever. Had barely graduated from elementary school, and was already failing as a first year in middle school long before she finally dropped out. When they weren't taunting her, everyone avoided Nanashima Tsuna like the plague.

Hell, if Tsuna could get away from herself, she would.

Apparently, Fuuta had finally realized what everyone already knew: Tsuna was no good at all, and he would take Lambo and leave and never look back, and Tsuna would spend the rest of her worthless little life alone and oh, Kami-sama, she can't breathe-

Fuuta leaned forward from his chair, eyes burning with intent. "If I ever hear you say those things about yourself again, I will leave this house and go punch every worthless soul who ever put you down in the face. I will also vandalize their homes and get myself arrested by the Yakuza. When they finally let me out, I go do everything all over again. You will only ever see me during visitation hours, through the bars of my minuscule cell that I will have to share with thieves and other delinquents."

Silence.

"... I'm sorry?" Tsuna squeaked.

Her brother nodded solemnly. "Just don't do it again."

"Okay..." she wrapped the blankets tighter around her shoulders. "But that doesn't change the fact I'm currently still unemployed."

"That's easy enough to fix. I'm nineteen, I can get a job."

Tsuna looked at him with horror. "But what about college?! You can't get a job, you have to concentrate on your studies, your degree-!"

"Onee-san," Fuuta said decisively. "All of my teachers tell me I'm ahead of my classmates in every subject. Missing a few hour of study won't result in me flunking it." His eyes softened as he looked at her. "You're not the only one who has to make the sacrifices, you know. We are a family. Trust us to help you when you need it."

But Tsuna was already shaking her head furiously. "I'm the older one," she told him stubbornly. "I'm responsible for your and Lambo's well-being. Your education is paramount and I won't let you jeopardize it because of me."

 _I have to take care of you. I promised Mama. You're the only ones I have left..._

"Tsuna-nee-"

"No, Fuuta. That's my final decision. I will work something out," she always does. "Maybe I can go back to washing dishes at that pizza restaurant. There's gotta be something. I just have to find it. Whatever it is, I will do it."

The young man scowled. "Are you going to spend the rest of your life washing dishes and mopping floors?" he gave her a sad expression. "You were meant for so much more than this, Onee-san..."

 _No_ , Tsuna thinks to herself, finally picking up the Sencha tea from the table and slowly starting to sip from it. _You're wrong, Fuuta._

 _This is exactly what I deserve._

* * *

Two days later, there was an unwelcome knock on their door.

Tsuna, still jobless and already aware of who she would find behind the door, took a deep, steadying breath and opened it.

"Good morning, Osamu-san..."

Osamu-san was a low-ranking member of Namimori's Yakuza, the Momokyokai, as the black tattoos covering most of the bared skin she could see attested to. Not only that, he was also one of the members who took care of collecting the rent from the all the tenants in the block. Every month, Tsuna lived in fear of his shadow darkening her doorstep.

"Nanashima," he greeted curtly. "You know why I'm here."

Swallowing, Tsuna nodded, telling the yakuza to wait for just a moment, and went back to Fuuta and Lambo's shared bedroom. Underneath Lambo's bed, she fished out a stuffed lion.

It was an old but well-loved toy. She vaguely recalls a towering giant of a man gifting her with it on her third birthday, obligingly imitating 'roars' for her when she begged to play with him.

She had named the lion Natsu. It had been her favorite toy. A faithful companion that had kept her safe from the monsters under the bed and remained by her side during the long, lonely days when no child wanted to play with her at the playground.

And now it had become the secret place to stash the emergency money.

Pitilessly, she took a scissor from the room's work desk and carefully snipped at the stitches holding the stuffed toy together. When the head was separated from the rest of the body, bills of yen came pouring down. She collected each one, careful to make sure she hadn't missed any, then returned to the living room where Osamu-san was still waiting patiently.

She handed him the cash. "Here it is."

He began to count the money, paused, and then started again while she nervously watched on. When he stopped for the second time, Tsuna knew there was something wrong.

She was right.

"I'm sorry, Nanashima, but this only covers half of the rent, and I'm being generous there."

"What?" she croaked, hand tightening on the doorknob. "No, it can't be. I guarded that money specifically because it was the exact amount of rent. Are you sure you counted it right?"

He gave her an affronted look. "Of course I did. _I_ wasn't the one to flunk school, you know?" Osamu sneered.

Too used to the insults by now, Tsuna plowed ahead. "But I counted just yesterday..."

"Didn't anyone tell you? We raised the rent."

"You _raised_ the rent?!"

"You didn't receive the announcement from your landlord?" Osamu asked. "He's been warning everyone for a whole week."

No. She hadn't received any announcement. That might be because her landlord hated her and hadn't seen as necessary to warn her about the _fucking rent going up_.

"He must have forgotten," she finally managed to spit out.

Osamu shrugged, totally unconcerned. "Well, now you know. So, where's the rest?"

Tsuna grounded her teeth. "There's no more. I still haven't received my check." Better not to tell him she had lost her job.

The man sighed as if Tsuna had just made his life a million times more difficult just by existing. "And when will you receive it?"

"Uh... In a week?"

A week? A week?! Why the hell did she say that?! Where would she find a job and get paid in a week when there was no one hiring?!

Tsuna despaired over her own idiocy.

"Alright. I can come back in a week. But no longer than that. If you don't have the money 'till then, Nanashima, you and your brats can pack your bags and leave."

Tsuna nodded, feeling her stomach drop as she watched Osamu walk away with all the money she had left in this life.

When she closed the door, she let her back fall against the wood, letting it slow her descent as she slid all the way to the ground. The urge to hide her face and bawl like a baby was almost too much.

What was she going to do? What could she do? A yakuza had just left her apartment with the rest of her money and an ultimatum. If she failed to deliver the rest in a week's time, she and her brothers would be sleeping under a bridge in the near future.

At the image of her little brothers begging on the streets crossed her mind, a sob burst out of her mouth before she muffled it. She couldn't break down now. Fuuta might already have left for his morning classes, but Lambo was still inside the apartment, taking a shower before heading to school. Later she could take a few minutes to cry. Later. Now though, she had to splatter a smile on her face carry on, pretending nothing was wrong and her family wasn't about to be evicted from their only home.

Tsuna had just finished making herself presentable when Lambo appeared, wearing the Namimori High School uniform, curly hair still drying from his quick shower.

"I thought I heard someone at the door? Who was it?" He studied her with critical eyes, his usually lazy look replaced with a sharp one. She could see that his hold on the strap of his backpack had already tightened as if he was bracing himself for the worse.

She waved his questions away. "Don't worry about it, Lambo. They knocked on the wrong door. I sent them on their way."

The teen looked doubtful, but his grip relaxed as he accepted his big sister's words at face value. His trust in her made Tsuna feel like the scum of the earth.

"Well then, I'm off. Don't expect me for dinner, I'm going to spend the night at Fuji's to work on that science project. Bye, Tsuna-nee!" Lambo gave her a lazy wave on his way out, which she returned with a smile.

"Bye..."

When the door closed behind Lambo, Tsuna finally allowed herself to cry, hanging to the kitchen counter as sobs wracked her body.

It took a while before she calmed down. After washing her face in the sink and drinking a glass of water to replenish herself, she felt a little more human, capable of rational thought instead of constantly dissolving into hysterics.

She sat down on the couch, contemplating her situation.

Now with a clearer head, Tsuna could see that, while quite dire indeed, her predicament was not as hopeless as she had first assumed. There was still one avenue she had not given serious consideration yet.

She was giving it now.

On her right hand, a folded slip of paper with a string of numbers coupled with a name. On her left, the cracked black screen of her outdated cell phone reflected her pale face back at her. In her mind, the decision to make a call she never thought she would have to. Hesitantly, she punched in the numbers and waited for someone to answer.

One ring. Two rings. Three. Four-

" _Moshi moshi?_ "

Tsuna swallowed the dry lump in her throat.

"Hi. It's Tsuna. Nanashima Tsuna, I mean. I just wanted to tell you that I've been thinking about your proposal and I..." The girl took a deep breath. "I decided to accept it."

She ignored the anxiety and fear growing inside her. And she certainly ignored the voice at the back of her head, whispering that she had made the right choice.

It didn't matter if it was right or wrong. She had made the only possible choice. Now she would have to live with it.

(She promised Mama she would take care of them. She _promised_ her.

... Tsuna would _never_ break a promise to Mama.)

* * *

"You know, though I've been waiting for years, I never thought you would actually call me."

The two women sat in seiza on the tatami floors in one of the medium-sized room found in the house, a low table with two cups and a tea kettle between them. Tsuna nervously alternated watching the clearly expensive tea set and her hostess.

Miura Haru was a lovely woman, even when she wasn't trying to be. At the moment wearing a simple dark blue short-sleeved blouse with a white shirt underneath and black pants covering her slim legs instead of her usual rich and gorgeous kimonos, she still looked more beautiful than most people Tsuna knew, her face bare of any cosmetics, the short, pixie dark hair missing wigs and lacking any pins or decorations. But there was something in the way she walked, the confident sway of her hips, the secretive edge of her smile, her sharp brown eyes looking at you as if she knew your darkest secrets, that earned her another adjective in Tsuna's wary mind.

 _Dangerous_.

Tsuna often wondered if that was requisite to anyone who lived life as a _geisha_.

"It has been three years, Nanashima-san. You must know you are a bit late to undergo the training." Haru pointed out gently, blowing on her tea cup before taking a sip.

She made even that look like the most graceful of gestures.

Suddenly feeling self-conscious, Tsuna put her own cup down on the table between them. "I will be honest with you, Miura-san. I am desperate. No one will hire me, I can't get loans from the bank, and have no friends whom I could borrow money from. My family and I are about to be kicked from our home because we can't pay the rent." She looked down at her lap, fists clenched. Then she rose up, stepped away from the table and bowed until her forehead touched the floor.

"I know I am much older than the other girls, but please. You are my last chance. My family's last chance. If nothing else, let me work as one of your maids or a servant or, or... Anything, anything at all, I will do it. But please... Don't turn me away."

With her eyes turned to the floor and clenched shut, Tsuna missed the compassionate look that flickered through Haru's eyes before it disappeared. She missed the way the woman rested her cup on the table and moved to kneel directly in front of Tsuna. It was only the soft touch of Haru's hand on her hair that made her look up.

"One of the first lessons you need to learn: we don't prostate ourselves so easily. We may bend, like the green reed in the wind, but even that is a choice. Times are not like they were decades ago for geisha. Above all, you must remember that: we, women of the arts, _always_ have a choice."

"You mean... you will..." Tsuna chokes, relief flooding her as she leaned into the hands cupping her face.

Haru grins at her. It's not the small, polite smile she wears among customers or visitors. It is unrestrainedly happy, bright and real. She looks younger that way, more like a childish girl than the feminine lady she was moments ago.

"The okiya will cover all of your debts, and in return, you will become my maiko, working and learning under me as your Onee-san," a serious look entered her eyes. "It won't be easy. You will have to learn in months what usually takes years. And you are beginning late, much too late, many would say. But I know you will not disappoint me."

For a moment, Tsuna swore Haru's eyes flashed green, like a lightning strike; there and gone in a second.

"By the time I am done with you, no one will ever call you Dame-Tsuna again."

* * *

 **Two Months Later**

* * *

" _How's the job going_ , kora?"

A man in a black suit watched the city lights atop the veranda of a luxurious hotel in Tokyo as he puffed out smoke from the cigarette in his mouth and held a top-of-line cell phone to his ear.

"I just arrived in Tokyo yesterday night, Collonello. It will take some more time to scout out the area."

Reborn suspected that it would take quite a bit of time in truth. After being summoned by Federico, the would-be-Vongola-Decimo, and got called in for the favor he owned the Famiglia, Reborn had had to rush through all his other contracted hits while making preparations for the journey to a notoriously isolated country, which took a whole month (he knew he shouldn't have taken up his colleagues' invitation to a holiday) by itself.

He had already been in Japan's soil for almost three weeks now, carefully combing first through Hokkaido, and then making his way down. Before that, there was the week he wasted just to get a fake passport and an I.D that would hold up against Japan's legendary inspection. As of now, his name was Ren Amoretto (last time he let Shamal choose his fake name), a quarter-Japanese from his mother's side, who was also a math teacher from a prestigious university trying to reconnect with his recently-deceased _madre_ by learning more about the country she hailed from.

(That was also the last time Reborn ever allowed Shamal to come up with a fake background for him.)

Not for the first time, he cursed the Japanese's almost unhealthy wariness of foreigns.

As if all that wasn't enough, this job just might be the worst one of his career. The only concrete clue he had on his target was an old, years outdated photo, and a name.

 _Tsunayoshi._

That name fucking haunted him. For the past month he went to sleep with _Tsunayoshi_ in his mind and woke with it on his lips. And Collonello, the bastard, seemed to know that if he was already calling to poke fun at the other Arcobaleno.

" _Any idea how you're going to find your target_ , kora?" the Rain sounded unbearably smug.

If Reborn were a lesser man, he would have growled; as it was, he merely took another long drag off the cig.

"I'm going to spend the next two days in the city. Then I'm going futher south. There's a town off to the side, called Namimori. I don't expect to find much, but I've heard that there's where Satoko Sawada was buried. Maybe I can find the house Iemitsu grew up in." If nothing else, it would be interesting learning about the ex-Head of CEDEF's past.

" _Satoko Sawada? The wife of Hidetada Sawada?"_

"The very same." Reborn nodded though he knew Collonello couldn't see it. Iemitsu's father had been famous as one of the most powerful Skies in the world at the time, and his death (read: murder) had been mourned by all of Japan and, especially, by his Sun Guardian and wife, Satoko, who committed suicide shortly after, leaving behind a young, adolescent son to survive on his own.

It was only after his death that Reborn realized just how secretive Iemitsu had truly been in order to thrive all those years. For such a loud, boisterous man, who always bragged about his beloved wife, the Sky never once described her or where she lived; hell, few people knew she even existed, much less her name. For all Reborn knew, she might not even have lived in Japan, but Federico seemed certain that was the case and if Reborn trusted anything from the young mafioso, it was his Intuition.

Still... who would ever have thought? Iemitsu actually reproduced. A son. A child of Vongola blood that just might try to become the most powerful man in the world, as the Boss who rules all bosses.

" _Well, at least you will get to have some fun in there. Have you met any Japanese beauties yet,_ kora _?_ "

Reborn rolled his eyes. "I'm here on business, _idiota._ Not pleasure. I don't have time to play with the locals."

" _Ah, come on, Reborn!_ " The other man whined. " _I've heard that there are some places called the pleasure districts! You can't tell me you don't want to go there!_ "

He snorted. "Why the sudden interest? Isn't Lau enough for you?"

From the other side of the call, Collonello let out an offended noise. " _No one can match my Lau!_ " the military blond nearly shouted. " _But just because I can't touch doesn't mean I can't look, kora. And as your best friend, it is your sacred duty to allow me to live vicariously through you_."

"You're not my best friend," Reborn contested. "In fact, I would barely call us acquaintances."

Dryly, Collonello said " _If it's not me, then it's Skull_."

"What are you talking about Collonello? You know you're my best friend," was his instant reply.

They shared a laugh, until a new voice sounded from Collonello's side, and they had to close the call.

Left alone with his thoughts again, Reborm breathed in the cool air of Tokyo's night life, coming to the unpleasant realization he would have to take his fedora off for Iemitsu when they met in the afterlife. To be able to hide a possible heir for so long and to such lengths that even _he_ didn't know where to look...

Nevertheless, Reborn was the Greatest Hitman in the World. He had never known failure before. He wouldn't start now.

 _Forgive me Iemitsu,_ the hitman tilted his hat down to cover his eyes at the same time he snuffed out the cigarette in his palm. A quick burst of Sun Flames, and the burn was gone. Around his neck, a yellow pacifier glowed faintly, before returning to its dormant state.

 _It's nothing personal. Just business._

* * *

 _"_ Kyo-sama, I've already finished all the preparations. We may leave whenever you're ready."

Inside a grand bedroom in one of the Hibari states scattered through Japan, the Imperial Prince Kyouya Hibari opened his eyes from the couch he had been taking a nap on.

"Thank you Tetsu," he said softly, grey eyes still hazy from sleep. "We leave tomorrow. Warn Sasagawa."

His trusted right hand, Kusakabe Tetsuya, nodded once, then left the room, being careful to close the door softly behind him.

Alone in his room, Kyouya stretched his body, languidly rising from the couch like a large jungle cat and making his way to the double glass doors leading to a veranda off to the side with an exquisite view of the gardens. The cold night air of Kyoto threatened to steal the breath from his lungs, and the fact he wore only a loose black pants, leaving his chest and feet bare, didn't help. He shook it off though, instead letting his gaze wander towards a specific direction.

A few kilometers that way, and Kyouya would finally see his personal territory again, the place he and more than three generations of Hibaris were born and raised for most of their childhood. Finally, after ten years of absence, the carnivore would return to reclaim to his rightful throne.

No matter the circumstances behind his return, it would be good to be in Namimori again.

He let a blood-thirsty smirk curl at the edges of his mouth.

It would be even better to bite some herbivores to death.

* * *

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 **AN: Oh my god. Oh my GOD. I just turned Tsuna into a geisha. I made Hibari into an Imperial Prince of Japan. Oh My God... It's official, I've finally lost my mind. What am I even doing?!**

 **Also, Haru might appear a little (a lot) out of character, but there's a reason for it that will be explained next chapter.**

 **Review?**


	5. Interlude II

Interlude - The First Flame War

* * *

Excerpt from the book "World History: Men and Flames", by Ayato Gokudera, 3rd Edition.

 _"The First Flame War, also known as The War to End All Wars, began in March 14th, 1900, and would only end one year later, on July 1st, 1901, with the signing of the Peace Treaty between Italy and Japan on the frozen and neutral grounds of Moscow, Russia._

 _For years before, tension had grown between Italy, ruled by the young but powerful Vongola Famiglia, and the Island of Japan, by then already under the control of the recently formed Hibari Clan, when the head of the latter succeeded the Emperor Meiji after marrying his eldest daughter, Princess Ume._

 _It is unknown what exactly was the change that turned this previously uneasy but coldly cordial relationship into the wildfire of war and destruction that would forever mark the world, though many speculate the reason to be the insult paid to Japan when Italy tried to force their way inside the country by having the Emperor sign a trade agreement (that would not survive the war) with them, or the attempt murder on Emperor Hibari's life. Though there are some conflicting reports with that last theory, as many historians say that the attempt was made on the Emperor's adopted charge_ _by Sicilian assassins sent by the Italian Mafia. A child that was rumored to belong to the Emperor's only concubine, a woman of great beauty whose name has since been lost to the pages of history._

 _Whatever the reason may be, Emperor Hibari answered the slight with the ruthlessness his line would be known for in the future; during the second week of March, 1900, the Head of the Asari Clan, whose previleges as a samurai family had been restored under the new Emperor's reign, arrived on the Port of Civitavecchia in the early hours of the 14th, and departed back t_ _o Japan within the same day, carrying with him a sack containing the heart of Ricardo di Vongola's eldest son._

 _If the world hadn't been made aware of Flames before that day, they certainly would have been then; th_ _ey say Vongola Secondo's wrath was so terrible a thing to behold, that the Quirinal Palace had to be evacuated by his Guardians. The remains of the historical structure can be found now in ruins of crumbled towers and half-melted stones._

 _During the following year, every country would watch in shock and bated breath as the two warring nations fought for dominance, creating battles that reshaped the very landscape. Italian cities would burn down in a matter of hours by the hands of its own citizens after Japanese Mists infiltrated the gates and sent them into madness that could only be dispelled by Vongola Secondo's own Mist Guardian; multi-colored Flames could be seen day in and day out, lighting up Japan's coast as they tried to beat back the relentless intruders over and over again. It took years for the regions of Luccania and Puglia to rebuild their lost cities and plantations, and Japan had to abandon many of their towns and villages to be pillaged and raped, while trying to recover their fallen from the ocean's deep. Ships from both countries would sail out and never be seen again, burned down to their husk. To this day, bodies can still be found in both coasts._

 _In the end, no one knows the war's exact body count, but no one would be surprised to discover it is somewhere between hundreds of thousands."_

* * *

Except from the private jornal of Princess Ume Hibari, wife of Emperor Hibari, also known as The First Hibari. Currently kept hidden from the public eye in a secret safe only those of the Imperial House of Japan have access to.

 _"June the 29th, 1901_

 _My husband has that look in his eyes again; that restless, caged look he always bear when he thinks someone is trying to force him into a cage. It has been some time since I've last seen that look on his face. Not since he beat the Head of the Ceremonies, Yoshimura-san, to near death after the pretensions man tried to get him to act 'as befitting a proper Emperor'._

 _All the court seems to think that just because my husband wasn't born as a son of our powerful nation, he isn't fit to be my spouse, much less our Emperor; the fools don't see what my honored Father and I saw in him on that fateful night when he intercepted an assassination that would have stolen my Father's life: he might not have the blood of our people, but Hibari certainly has our spirit. Discipline, honor, strength, respect... he embodies all those valors and more._

 _And yet, I can't help but sometimes agree with the courtiers. Hibari might have been born to rule, but he chaffes against the rules and chains such a position of power bestows upon him._

 _Even now, I can hear he pacing inside his bed chamber. He wants to enter the battlefield, his warrior's blood yearns for the sound of battle, for the clash of steel against steel, gun against gun, Flame against Flame. Though the redhead and the young one are absent, fighting in the frontline against those Italian barbarians, the Priest and Asari-sama are in there, trying to disuade him of this terrible idea and alay his stress, as good advisors should, but years of married life have taught me it is for naught. Only one person could offer my husband peace, but that person is dead, and the only piece left of them is gone, spirited away to a secure location Hibari won't disclose, not even to me._

 _I miss my husband's Concubine. Miss the blond hair that shone golden like the sun and those orange eyes that burned in the firelight; I miss how warm his Flames would feel against my own indigo ones. How his_ _mussed hair would look spilling on the pillow, how those eyes turned hazy from pleasure as he looked up at me as I rode him._

 _If it hurts me this much, I, who only knew him for a few short years, I can't even imagine the agony my husband and the others must be going through, after spending most of their childhood and their whole adult lives together._

 _I am not afraid to admit I don't want to known._

 _Tomorrow, my husband will ride into battle, with or without his comrades' aid._

 _Tomorrow, this wretched war will end._

(I hope Alaude brings back the Vongola and his Mist's heads. They will be an excellent gift for the child growing in my womb. We could put them up as decoration in the nursery's wall)

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* * *

 **AN: The time line of this world is getting pretty messed up, but I'm trying my best. So, just enjoy?**


End file.
